


Working For The Man

by AdamantSteve



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Anal Sex, But he loves his job, Clint's undercover, M/M, Phil hates that he loves it too, Prostitution, Sloppy Seconds, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-22
Updated: 2012-08-22
Packaged: 2017-11-12 15:45:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdamantSteve/pseuds/AdamantSteve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint goes undercover as an expensive male escort, Phil listens in on mission control. Once the job is done, Phil makes sure Clint knows who his ass really belongs to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Got your wire?” Phil asked, Clint nodding and turning his head so Phil could look directly into his ear canal to just make out the tiny earpiece. Phil nodded too. “Do you need anything?” Knowing the answer was no but checking anyway. Regardless of Clint’s enthusiasm for covert missions of this kind, Phil didn’t take his agreement to do certain things in the name of national security lightly.    
  
Clint glanced over to the hotel room door before placing his hands on Phil’s hips and kissing him gently on the forehead. “I’ll be fine.” He promised. They’d both read the files, knew the guy was clean, knew from experience Clint was more than capable of handling situations like this. The bigger the fish, the more Clint relished the challenge. Having a billionaire oligarch paying thousands of dollars to fuck his boyfriend both terrified and electrified Phil. Orchestrating the whole thing made him feel like both a seedy pimp and the luckiest man in the world.    
  
Hopefully he’d get some kind of useful information out of it. With any luck he’d be into getting tied up or blindfolded and Clint could rifle through his things with impunity. Otherwise, Clint had to make such a good impression that he’d make another appointment and he could work up a relationship and hopefully get further that way.    
  
The guy was funding  someone , Clint just had to get in there and figure out who it was exactly. Signs pointed to HYDRA but they couldn’t be sure. He might have just been a run of the mill regular terrorist. Either way, Clint was playing high-class rent boy and Phil couldn’t help but worry about him.   
  
They heard movement outside the door and broke apart, a practiced movement. Brooks, the backup junior agent, came back into the room carrying two dry cleaning bags: one contained a hotel worker’s uniform, the other a cheaper suit than the one Phil was already wearing, but that could mark him out as a hotel manager if the need arose. Clint was already wearing a crisp suit which Phil was irritated that he’d not been able to comment on. He looked good enough to eat. Clint looked in the mirror and worried over his hair, Phil catching his eye in the reflection. Clint winked.    
  
Phil turned and checked his watch. They had fifteen minutes before Clint’s ‘date’, but it made sense for Clint to head down to the bar in good time to scope out the place and give them time to iron out any possible communication issues.   
“Alright. Go to the bar. You know all the signals?” Phil  knew Clint knew the signals to alert them to him needing backup, both the regular undercover SHIELD ones and their own private ones, but, ever cautious, had to ask.   
“Sure. I got it.” Clint said, eager to get this over with. Or get it started.    
  
Clint couldn’t go into this with a gun or a knife, it would be too obvious he wasn’t just a regular garden-variety high class hooker. But he had a garotte hidden inside his watch, and was more than competent when it came to hand-to-hand combat. He wouldn’t be made to do anything he didn’t want to do, but still. He also had two small bottles of lube and half a dozen condoms in various pockets.   
“Ok.” Phil nodded to the door. Clint left.   
  
“You worry too much.” He said, presumably waiting for the elevator.    
Phil felt Brooks look over to him and held his features so they didn’t convey too much concern beyond the appropriate amount for a handler sending an asset out to do such an assignment. Clint knew Brooks would hear everything that Phil heard, and to say he liked to live on the edge was an understatement, but Phil knew he wouldn’t directly out them both, even if there were countless rumours about Coulson and Hawkeye among the junior agents. Brooks would relay everything that happened to the rest of the baby agents as soon as they got back to base, so Phil simply said, “Just need to know you’re on your game.” Like Clint ever wasn’t.   
  
Clint arrived at the hotel lobby and could be heard walking to the plush hotel bar.    
“Standard with ice, please.”    
Phil was sitting on the edge of the bed, Brooks at the desk, both looking at respective laptops. Phil allowed himself a small smile at Clint’s order. He only ever ordered vodka when he wanted to channel Natasha. He’d be alright.   
  
The three of them sat in silence with the sound of ice clinking in Clint’s glass every so often. These were the moments that Phil and Clint might usually talk, but not with Brooks in the room. This would be a lot different if it were just the two of them on this mission.


	2. Chapter 2

“You must be Luke.” Clint said. Phil inhaled as slowly as he could.    
“Yes. Nice to meet you. I’m Tom.”    
Clint would be flashing him his best smile, bright and a little bit suggestive. They both knew what he was here for. He’d be shaking his hand now, holding on for a moment longer than might have seemed necessary.   
“Would you like another drink, Tom?” The sound of ice cubes and Clint placing his empty glass on the bar.   
He must have assented, Luke placing an order and taking a seat.    
“So, how come you’re in New York?” Clint asked, making small talk. Brooks was poised over his laptop ready to research anything he said.    
“Oh, business.” Luke said, dismissively. No doubt licking his lips and looking Clint up and down.   
“What kind of business?” Clint asked, sweetly. Phil only ever heard this tone of voice from Clint when he was on a mission like this.   
  
The mark sighed. “I move money around. Investing in things, it’s very boring.”    
The drinks were delivered.    
“Have you invested in anything I might have heard of? Like Google or something?” Hearing Clint sound dumb shouldn’t light up Phil on as much as it did. Perhaps it was because he knew first hand how intelligent he actually was and how full of distain he’d be underneath his ditzy exterior.   
The mark laughed. “No, not Google. DeuscheBanken and some mining subsidiaries in Germany and Switzerland.”    
What an idiot, thought Phil as Brooks frantically worked on their database to try and triangulate who this guy might be working for. He’d bought Clint’s airhead play instantly.    
“Good work, Barton.” Phil said quietly. “Keep playing the dumb blonde angle.”    
“Mining? Like oil?”   
This guy obviously enjoyed sounding clever, so he fed them exactly what they were after. “No, not oil. There’s a rare element that they found deposits of on the German/Swiss border. I own part of a company that is mining there. It’s very valuable.”   
“Valuable, huh?”    
“Mmhmm. Very valuable.”   
“What are you going to spend all that money on?” Clint would be looking up at him through his eyelashes. He was too good at flirting.    
  
“Pretty things.” Mark replied.    
Clint heard the clink of the ice in their glasses and the definitive sound of them being placed, empty, on the bar.    
“I have a gift for you, upstairs.”    
“A gift? You didn’t need to get me anything.”   
“Pretty things for pretty people.”   
Clint didn’t reply, would be pretending to be bashful.    
“Shall we?”    
  
Clint couldn’t make it too easy, had to make himself seem like he was doing this for the money, even if he did enjoy his work. Clint hesitated, and that was enough.   
“I’ve already wired you the money. It’s all there. If my accountant found out, he’d murder me.”    
“I’m worth it.” Clint promised.    
  
“Check your phone.” Phil told him. Clint would be checking on his phone to make sure the money had been transferred to his account, making a show of trying to be discreet.    
  
“Alright?” Luke asked, sounding slightly irritated. That was good. It garnered believability. Clint must have nodded because the next sound Phil heard was an elevator bell and then the soft sounds of kissing. He saw Brooks’ head swivel towards him, but made no reaction. With the mark that close he couldn’t say anything anyway, but he bit his tongue.    
He heard them step away from one another.    
“Careful. I thought you wanted discreet.”   
“Forgive me if I can’t keep my hands off you.”   
Then Clint moaned, the man must be kissing his neck or groping him through his suit.    
  
Another elevator ding and they were in the mark’s room. Clint cooed over the skyline, as if he didn’t see a similar one every day at home.    
“Is that Stark Tower?” He asked, the sounds of his neck being kissed and Clint gasping too-loud. Louder than he ever did with Phil. But it was all for show.    
“Hmm, yes I believe it is.” The man replied, voice muffled. Stark tower was hard to miss, it had a huge STARK sign right there and was a pretty iconic shape. Phil worried that Clint might be playing the ditzy angle a little too hard, but it didn’t seem to matter.    
“I’ve seen Iron Man fly out of there a couple of times.”    
“Really? You think we’ll see him tonight?”    
“Maybe. But I think you might be too busy with other things.”   
“Mmm, is that so?”   
Clint suddenly gasped and the sound of bodies hitting glass came through Phil’s earpiece.    
  
“Wait! Can I use your bathroom?”    
There was a pause. “Sure. It’s through there on the left.”   
“I’ll be right back.”   
Clint no doubt sashayed his way to the bathroom, locked the door behind him and frantically (quietly) searched the room. There was a standard toiletry bag full of expensive things that Clint might in previous years have stolen for Natasha. Not tonight though.    
“Nothing.” He whispered. There was nothing of any interest there.    
“Wash up and go to work.” Phil ordered.


	3. Chapter 3

Clint padded back out of the bathroom, evidently not finding the mark where he’d left him.    
“In here.” Came a faint voice, louder once Clint walked to the bedroom. “Do you want another drink?”    
“Maybe later.” Clint knew better than to get roofied unless he really had to.   
“Please yourself.”   
  
“So... what do you want to do tonight?” Clint would be leaning on the doorframe, probably.   
The mark hesitated, like they always did before revealing what they were really after.    
“I’d like to fuck you.” He eventually said. Phil’s nostrils flared. Clint took it in his stride, of course.    
“Where do you want me?”    
  
“Take off your clothes. Slowly.” Phil imagined he was sitting on the bed, drink in hand, eyeing Clint hungrily. Maybe he already had his cock in his other hand. Phil heard Clint slowly divesting himself of his clothing, probably letting it crease on the floor.    
“Turn around.”   
There was quiet movement, Luke’s voice closer now. “Here.”   
“What is it? A St Christopher?”    
“Something like that.”    
“It’s beautiful. Is that an octopus?”    
The mark didn’t answer, but from the sounds of it, he’d just put a necklace with the tentacled skull symbol of HYDRA around Clint’s neck.    
“Thank you.”   
The soft sounds of kissing again. Phil did not enjoy the kissing.   
The kissing sounds faded out before the sound of a zipper came through the comms, and then the simple sound of someone sucking. Phil felt his nostrils flare again. The mark made sounds of pleasure, of course. Clint was brilliant at sucking cock and would be working extra hard now to maintain his cover as a hooker worthy of the money he was spending. If Brooks hadn’t been there Phil might have whispered things in Clint’s ear. As it was, he was silent.   
  
The mark sounded breathless. “Yeah, you’re good at that.”   
“I like the taste of your cock.” Clint’s voice sounded ragged already, the guy must be pretty big.    
“Yeah? Touch yourself. Show me how much you like it.”   
Clint groaned and presumably did as he was told, panting over the comms.    
“You’re  too good at this. I want to get my money’s worth.” The man said, Clint sounding surprised as he was pushed away.    
  
“On the bed.”   
Phil couldn’t tell what was happening but heard them move to the bed and then wet noises coming from Clint’s mouth. He imagined lurid details that he’d have to have Clint fill him in on later. After a short while, Clint spoke up even more raggedly.   
“I thought you said something about fucking me?”   
The mark laughed. “You’re an eager thing, aren’t you? Seems like you’re in the right line of work.”   
Clint laughed gently, in a way that Phil knew from experience meant he thought the person he was politely laughing with was an idiot.    
“I like to think so. Let me-”   
Clint got up off the bed, searching through his jacket pockets for the condoms and lube, throwing them onto the bed with a soft sound.    
  
The mark must have looked disappointed.   
“If you pay me another five G’s I’ll let you do me bareback.”   
Phil was glad that Brooks was facing away from him. He clenched his jaw. They’d tentatively discussed this but only really in the event that it was something the mark insisted on. This wasn’t the play they’d agreed on. Typical Clint.   
A shifting sound and then a flutter - money falling onto the bed. Phil conceded it was probably a smart move, giving the mark the idea that Clint would do anything he was paid to, giving him an edge of desperation and recklessness. And stupidity.   
  
“Stretch yourself out for me. I wanna watch.”   
Phil knew Clint would do it, and would hate it. Slick sounds filled Phil’s ears. He could picture Clint laying on the bed, making eye contact as he pushed his fingers in and out of himself. He could hear the mark jerking himself off, murmuring that Clint was wanton and loved it, that he was a whore and a slut and would do anything if he paid him enough. Eventually he asked if Clint was ready, Clint replying breathlessly “Yeah, give it to me.”    
  
There was a shift, the next sound Phil heard was a small cry from Clint as the mark presumably pushed into him.    
“God, you’re so tight. Are you sure you’re a whore?”   
“You’re big. Feels good. Give it to me.”   
Clint moaned again as he was breached further, a drawn out moan which ended when the mark was in to the hilt. He whispered right into Clint’s ear, loud to Phil and Brooks. “You like that? Being filled up and stretched out?”   
Clint whimpered, playing it up. “Uh huh,” he said, a little helplessly.    
  
There were the sounds of fucking: The mark making all sorts of claims whilst Clint grunted and moaned like a porn star. It was all bullshit, Phil knew that, but it still struck something inside of him. He wanted to run up there and burst in, rescue Clint like some damsel in distress. Rescue him and then claim him back as his own. Remind him who he really belonged to.   
  
He realised he was gripping the bed sheet under his hand, bunching it up. He looked to Brooks but he didn’t seem to have noticed. He ran a hand across his forehead, measured his breathing and tried to relax. This was all going to plan. It was fine. He smoothed the bedding back down.   
  
“It feels so good having your great big cock in my ass. Stretching me out. Uhng, yeah, fuck me.”   
Phil could hear the chain of the necklace softly jingling next to Clint’s ear. Tried to focus on how they’d be able to send it for analysis to find out it’s origin and that was great intel and would provide them with excellent leads. Pushed the thought of ripping it off of Clint the moment he got his hands on him out of his mind.   
  
“Tell me what you are.”   
“Your- yours.”   
“Yeah, I fucking own you.” Clint took the guy’s lead.    
“Yes, you own me! You own my ass. Ah!”    
The guy wasn’t being gentle, the bed was easily audible through the comms, the sound of skin slapping on skin frantic. Growing faster.    
“I’m gonna come right in your asshole, you goddamn whore. You want it?”   
Clint whimpered. “Yeah.” He said in a small voice which tore through Phil.    
  
The mark came silently, thrusting a few more times as he emptied valuable DNA evidence into Clint’s ass.    
  
Clint softly whimpered as he withdrew. They were both panting, Phil imagined them laying on the bed in a tangled mess. Clint sighed as the mark kissed him. Normally at this point, Phil would give instruction as to what Clint ought to do next: leave hastily, steal his wallet, angle for a second date. But this time their mark did the work for them, asking “Can I see you again?” as he rose off the bed and away from Clint.   
  
“Definitely.” Clint replied, shifting off of the bed. “How long are you in town?”    
“A week. Are you free the day after tomorrow?”   
“I can clear my schedule.” Clint was rounding on the guy, playing flirtatious. Probably had his arms around his waist. There was the sound of another drink being made.    
“I’ll see you then.” Luke said, dismissively.   
  
Phil heard Clint put his clothes back on.    
“I’ll see you soon, Luke.” He said in a sultry voice which would have made Phil roll his eyes if he wasn’t strung tighter than Clint’s bow.    
“Get out of there already.” Phil snapped.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sloppy seconds!

Phil opened the door as Clint got to it. He walked in smelling of sex, clothes ruffled and a gaudy gold medallion about the size of a quarter around his neck.    
  
Phil didn't take his eyes from Clint's as he told Brooks over his shoulder, "go get us all some Taco Bell while we debrief."    
Brooks scurried past them, out of the room, Clint locking the deadbolt behind him. There wasn’t a Taco Bell anywhere near this hotel.    
  
Phil crowded Clint into the door, careless about the noise he was making. Fuck the junior agents and their rumours. Clint pushed his hands under Phil's jacket, ran them up and down his sides as Phil licked into his mouth. He tasted like vodka and someone else.   
  
Clint pulled his hand around to fish inside Phil's jacket pocket, pulling out an evidence bag. Phil came back to himself and yanked on the chain around Clint's neck, making him yelp. He paused, took a deep breath and gently worked the chain around to unclasp it properly. He dropped it into the bag which Clint closed and threw behind Phil. They were still crowded against the door, breathing heavily, cocks tenting their pants. So Clint  hadn't  come, Phil thought to himself.  Good.   
  
Phil pulled back and grabbed at Clint to turn him around like was going to arrest him, reaching round to grab his fly and then yank down his trousers and pants. Cum slicked across the top of Clint's inner thighs, shiny and wet. Phil’s nostrils flared. Clint stayed still as he popped the caps of three DNA swabs and gently wiped them over the wet skin. He closed them and stood up, grabbing Clint by his arms and jerking him roughly towards the bed as he stepped back and placed the swabs on the nightstand. Clint fell on the bed.   
  
Clint hadn't said anything, wouldn't say anything until Phil was done. This was the unofficial part of their debrief process. Phil would claim back what was his, checking Clint over and reminding them both who the other belonged to.   
  
Phil wordlessly pulled off Clint's shoes, socks and trousers, checking him over as he did so. No bruises or bite marks, no scratches. He unbuttoned Clint’s shirt and pulled it off along with the jacket. Clint's chest was fine, too. He pulled Clint over onto his front, breath hitching slightly at the pink scratch marks across Clint's back. He smoothed his hands over them. He got up from the bed and pulled his jacket and his pants off but left his shirt on, Clint rolling to one side to watch him. He knelt back on the bed and straddled him, ran his hands over Clint's whole back, down his arms, held his hands. Pressed a kiss to the back of his neck.    
  
He moved down Clint’s body, kissing over the scratches until he reached Clint’s ass. He brushed his hands down Clint’s back and pulled his cheeks apart, his own cock bouncing to see the slick mess it was. He pushed two fingers easily in, Clint loose but still letting out a small sigh. Not from the stretch. He was  loose . Phil reached underneath him to feel his cock, as hard as he’d expected it to be. Clint took his cue to kneel on all fours, Phil lining up behind him and angling Clint just right so he could slide straight in. They both gasped as he did it. Clint was slick and wet and used and  hot  and it was easy for Phil to let go and drive himself in and out with abandon. Cum slicked out as Phil fucked into Clint, onto both of their thighs so they stuck together wetly every time they came together, making a sound they only ever got to hear on missions like this.   
  
Phil leaned over Clint, letting his weight rest on him as he fucked him with shallower thrusts. He reached down to gather some of the wetness to lube up Clint’s cock, jerking him off with a tight fist as he breathed hot air into Clint’s back. Clint felt warm and soft and welcoming as Phil pushed in with no resistance. As if he could always be like this, always ready to take Phil’s cock. Wet from the last time and the time before that. Always making the soft sounds he was making now, murmuring Phil’s name.    
  
Phil let go of Clint’s cock and straightened up to watch himself push easily in and out of his ass, feeling warmth settling low inside of him as he started to lose control, thrusts growing jagged. Clint clenched gently, tipping Phil over the edge. He cried out as he came, gripping Clint’s hips and spilling inside him, marking him as his anew.    
  
He slid out, Clint whimpering as cum slid out after him. Phil pushing Clint gently over onto his back. He was tired, felt sleep pulling at him, but that didn’t matter. He wasn’t done. Clint watched him as he sucked his cock into his mouth, another practiced movement. Clint pushed his fingers into Phil’s hair and gripped his head to move him up and down on his own cock. Phil let his throat open and took it happily, let Clint use him until he was done. He massaged Clint’s legs as Clint fucked his face, swallowed everything that Clint gave him when he came. Licked his balls once he was done just to hear the sounds he made.    
  
Clint pulled him up next to him. They had a little while before Brooks would be back. They could extend their personal debrief for a few lazy kisses. Phil gripped onto Clint, pushed his head into the crook of his neck. Clint held on too, kissing Phil’s temple at an awkward angle.    
  
“Are you alright?” Phil eventually asked, feeling Clint’s nod as he replied.   
“I’m fine.”   
“Are you sure?”   
Clint laughed softly. “I told you, you worry too much. You know I’m good at my job.”   
Phil moved to look Clint in the eye. “I know. Doesn’t mean I don’t mind some asshole touching my boyfriend.”   
Clint cocked an eyebrow. “You mind, do you?” They both knew full well that they did these assignments purely for their rigorous unofficial debriefs, which would be replayed frequently over the subsequent weeks, Phil marking his territory over and over again until the next time.    
Phil looked sideways, churlish about admitting just how much he enjoyed the idea of his boyfriend the whore, who always came home to him and him only.    
“As long as you come home with me.”    
“Of course.” Clint said softly. “Always.”   
  
After a short while of listening to one another breathe, they stood, Phil dressing whilst Clint showered. He turned the sheets so the stains were hidden, tidied the evidence bags into his briefcase and set about writing up the report.   
  
When Brooks eventually returned with two large bags of Taco Bell and red flushed cheeks, Clint was still in the shower and Phil was propped on the bed working on the mission report like nothing had happened.    
  
“You took your time.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yikes, I didn't expect this to get SO long. It was originally meant to be just the sloppy seconds part, but then I wrote the whole set up, then the 'date', then the sloppy seconds after that. The whole thing is littered with porn, however, and Phil getting riled up over the whole thing. So no great loss. 
> 
> This was from a prompt that [infiniteeight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/infiniteeight/profile) gave me, that was essentially just "sloppy seconds, please!" which I turned into a giant beast. 
> 
> Someday I'll learn how to write short things.


End file.
